The Best Kind Of MashUp
by marionetteoffate
Summary: A mash-up is two things that shouldn't work together, but somehow create a beautiful harmony. For example, glee and football. Kurt and Blaine. A jock and a fashionista. Dalton and McKinley. Seasons 1 and 2 of Glee. For some reason, some things just work.


A new day, a new year, a new school. Kurt Hummel bit his lip, looking at the sign up bulletin board. There were many social opportunities, but none of them really appealed to Kurt. Well, okay, Fashion Club caught his eye. It appeared to be run by a girl named Tina Cohen-Chang. While Kurt wouldn't dare sign up on a public board, he would probably show up anyways.

It was only a matter of time before someone figured out the truth anyways. It wasn't like Kurt was good at hiding it. Besides he loved fashion. He looked down at his ensemble. He had gone pretty low key today, simply decked in some skin tight jeans, a striped shirt and matching hat. He looked fashionable, chic, and he wasn't even wearing one of his 'out there' outfits. But Kurt knew he would still stand out.

Just as he was about to spin on his heel and walk away, a paper caught his eye. It was white and ordinary, but had some sort of colorful sticky substance on it. It smelled distinctly of cherry, which was rather odd. 'New Directions' the sign declared. Underneath the name that was wildly inappropriate if spoken quickly, it said 'glee club'. Kurt felt a little thrill run up and down his spine. He loved singing. It was his passion, after fashion of course. But it didn't look like it was very popular.

For some reason, against his better judgment, he signed his name on the line with a flourish. He spun on his heel and was promptly greeted by an ice cold liquid. He felt like he had been bitch slapped by an icicle. He could taste the saccharine grape flavoring on his lips, and the artificial sugars in the drink stung his eyes.

"Welcome to McKinley freak!"

The speaker was a jock, a short boy with unruly dark curls, and hazel eyes, clad in a red and white letterman jacket. He wore a smirk, but Kurt had long ago perfected his 'Ice Bitch' façade. He could hold his own in a battle of wits, something that these Neanderthals didn't look like they engaged in often.

"Good to know that public schools have really upped their standards in the last few years." Kurt sniffed. "Do they accept dogs and animals in too? I would imagine that they are at least potty trained, which is a lot more than I'm guessing can be said for you and the company you keep."

His voice was bitchy and snarky, and he knew he had just signed off his own execution warrant, but before the jock could even get angry, a large black girl came to Kurt's aid. She quickly stepped in front of him, almost shielding him from the jock.

"Okay Anderson, you've had your fun, now get lost. You may be on the football team, but you're still a few traits short, if you get my meaning."

The jock scowled at her. Obviously his height was a major issue for him. Kurt couldn't help but snort as he walked past. This earned him another glare from the jock, but he really didn't care. He was a jerk anyways.

Once the jock-Anderson-finally past, the girl who had risen to his defense turned around, and gave him a look, clearly questioning his sanity. "White boy, are you crazy?" Yup, Kurt nailed it. "You just irritated the jock block! Anderson talks a good game and throws a slushy every now and then, but he's a softie on the inside. But you can bet he'll go running and tell his boys about this, and they aren't nearly as nice."

Kurt arched an eyebrow. "That was the McKinley version of nice? I was correct in presuming the school let's in animals then?"

For some reason, this made the girl smile. "Yup, and you just met the little schnauzer with a bark worse than his bite, trying to pretend to be a Rottweiler. I'm Mercedes Jones." She held out her hand for Kurt to shake, which he did gratefully. "Kurt Hummel." He said, by way of introduction.

"You know, you've got a lot of sass for a white boy Kurt Hummel." Mercedes said thoughtfully. Kurt smirked, and shifted his bag on his shoulder. "I've been called that before, among other things. I must say though, it sounds a lot nicer coming from you."

But Mercedes didn't appear to be listening. Instead she was eyeing the bag Kurt was currently toting. "Is that from Marc Jacobs' new collection?" She questioned, a look of envy clear on her face. Kurt smirked. This bag was his pride and joy, and a complete bribe from his father. Though Kurt didn't really see how a bag could substitute a zero-tolerance policy, Kurt was grateful all the same.

"Yes it is indeed."

Mercedes looked at it in awe. "Wow. Where did you get that white boy?" Kurt shrugged. "It was a bribe from my father. Considering he runs a garage and wouldn't know an ensemble from Marc Jacobs from a shirt from Wal Mart, it was a big deal for him."

The girl raised her eyebrows. "He sounds like a great dad. My parents don't understand my love of fashion." Kurt smiled, and nodded. "Yeah, he's pretty great. He doesn't always understand me either, but he loves me all the same." Something that had turned out to be really important to Kurt.

"Come on then Kurt, let's go and get you cleaned up." Kurt smiled as she led him into the girl's bathroom. "Um, you don't mind, do you?" She asked nervously. "I mean, I can't go into the guys'. But don't worry, I'm pretty sure there's no one in there."

Kurt smiled. "I don't have a problem with it. As long as no one is throwing disgusting drinks chock full of empty calories and artificial flavoring at me, I'm sure it will be a literal heaven on earth."

The girl looked at him doubtfully. "Well it's got a couch, but that's about it."

"Kurt? What are you doing here?"

Kurt looked up at the freakishly tall teenager, and raised an eyebrow. He had just seen a large lipped blonde leave the room, guitar in hand, and he had heard rumors from Mercedes that someone had sent another girl to a crack house, but otherwise, the room was fairly empty. A kid in a wheelchair, a pretty Asian girl standing next to him, and a brunette who was as short as Finn was tall.

The sassy countertenor had come in with Mercedes. Upon their bathroom bonding session, she had found out that Kurt planned on auditioning for the glee club, and Kurt had discovered that she was a member of New Directions. Apparently they were 'sub-basement' in the analogical high school hotel, but Kurt didn't care. As long as he could sing, he would be just fine.

"Well I was told that the auditions for New Directions were open." Kurt said, a tinge of sarcasm coating his tone. The taller boy simply blinked, and Kurt wanted to shake his head. What had he even seen in this boy? Thank god Finn's messiness was enough of a turn off to deter Kurt before he got too invested on his crush.

"Yeah, but I didn't know you sang," Finn began to protest, before he was interrupted.

"Finn, who's this?"

Immediately Kurt disliked the small brunette. She latched onto Finn's arm, and had an air of superiority. Kurt knew for a fact that Finn's girlfriend was a pretty blonde named Quinn, and not this girl. But she apparently seemed to be under the delusion otherwise.

"I'm Kurt. My father is dating his mother. And you must be 'Girl-who-is-not-the-girlfriend-of-Finn'." The brunette opened her mouth and tried to come up with a retort, but the teacher in charge managed to halt her before she did so.

"Well welcome anyhow then. We've already had two people audition, but, they ah, realized New Directions was not on the horizon for them." Kurt arched an eyebrow, and the teenager in the wheelchair translated for him. "One of them is jock material, and the other was better than Rachel, so she sent her to a crack house."

The irritating girl from before-Rachel-quickly opened her mouth and began arguing with the boy-Artie, Mercedes whispered to him-but Kurt didn't really care. What he cared about was auditioning and blowing their socks off.

"Well I'm Kurt Hummel, and I'll be singing 'Mr. Cellophane'."

And without further ado, he knocked it out of the park.

The rest of the glee club, (all six of them!) applauded enthusiastically, and the Spanish teacher, Mr. Schue, clapped him on the back. "Welcome to the club Kurt. Now for our first performance as a group, I was thinking we could rehearse for a few hours, before performing it at lunch. Mercedes, we'll need costumes though. Do you think you can handle it?"

The chocolate skinned girl smirked. "Only if my boy Kurt helps me out." Kurt smirked. Oh he could handle this. They would knock it out of the park.

Blaine Anderson was a lot of things. Most of them were hidden under the persona he put on display for the high school crowd to see. As far as everyone knew, he was one of Lima's richer patrons, a good student with promising football talents. He was small for a jock, but he made it work. What he lacked in size, he made up for in speed. He was no Yao Ming, or Finn Hudson, but he was one hell of a wide receiver. He had earned his position in the metaphorical penthouse, and he wasn't going to be leaving.

Of course, even he had to do unpleasant jobs. He didn't like giving slushy facials. Actually, he hated it. And giving one to that new kid, well it had been pretty cruel. But it was a part of McKinley life. And needless to say, that kid had bounced back pretty quick. Blaine had actually felt embarrassed. He was definitely quick with his tongue, that was for sure.

Suddenly music filled the courtyard. It was a familiar beat, one that Blaine had sung to all the time in the privacy of his car. Several people emerged decked out in jeans and 'New York' t-shirts. Blaine immediately noticed Finn as one of them, something that caused quite a bit of a stir. But he was quickly distracted by one of the other teenagers dancing.

Just a few hours ago, he had tossed a grape slushy on a boy with perfectly coiffed hair and immaculate clothes. Now his hair was attractively mussed, and his sunglasses covered his eyes, which had been an icy combination of blue, green, and grey, whilst glaring at Blaine.

Far too soon, the song was over, much to Blaine's chagrin. He almost started applauding, before realizing that no one else was. And it appeared that the group had realized that as well. Blaine couldn't help but feel bad for them. It took a lot to put themselves out there, and they were completely rejected by McKinley. But what more could they expect?

"I give it a day, tops, before Finn quits the freak show." Puck muttered to Blaine. He grunted noncommittally, but privately, Blaine disagreed. Finn may have been one to follow the crowds, but Blaine had known him since he was in elementary school. When he was truly passionate about something, he locked on and clung to it like a limpet. And god only knew if Blaine had the courage to join glee club, he definitely wouldn't quit.

But for now, he agreed with Puck.

"So, I think I'll take that bet."

Watching the six members of New Directions clad in red, singing the Journey classic, 'Don't Stop Believin' Blaine had no doubt in his mind that Finn would be sticking with this, as would the others. They all had a ton of courage, more than Blaine had. Watching from his position with Puck, Blaine thought with his heart, and not the stereotypes reinforced by small minded high school teenagers.

And what Blaine wouldn't give to be up there performing with them.


End file.
